


Cozy

by MoonlitMusings



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, bed sharing, cheesy as hell, cuddling for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:11:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitMusings/pseuds/MoonlitMusings
Summary: Juno's crossed O'Flaherty, and needs to disappear. Luckily, there's a certain thief he knows who's an expert in disappearing. Unluckily, they end up hiding out in the Martian desert which gets very cold at night, and their heater doesn't seem to be working. It's going to be a long night.





	Cozy

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt on tumblr asking for "platonic to not-so-platonic bedsharing ft. Juno and Peter, bonus points if they do it "for survival" (sharing heat, pretending to be married and having to do it so as not to be suspicious, etc)".

Juno Steel spends a lot of time contemplating the terrible choices and moments of bad luck that lead him into bad situations, but usually there’s some sort of immediate threat to his or someone else’s life to distract him before he gets lost too deep in the dark pit of his own thoughts. This time, though, this time he has all night. Literally.

He has all night to think about losing his eye, about leaving that hotel room, about accepting that offer from O’Flaherty, about letting himself get sucked in as deep as he did, about trying to go behind O’Flaherty’s back and mess up his plans, about letting himself get discovered, about making the mistake of asking someone to help him disappear for a while, about not asking questions when they said they knew a guy, all of which led to his current position: hiding in an abandoned shack, out past even the edges of Old Town in the middle of the desert, with Peter goddamn Nureyev.

“Is this really the best hideout you could find, Nureyev?”

“Considering O’Flaherty’s sway and how much effort he’s putting into looking for you, yes. Out here there’s no cameras, no witnesses, no sign anyone has been here for years.” As he says this, he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleans a layer of sand and dust off a chair, grimacing slightly as he shakes it clean before sitting down.

“So how do you know about it?” Nureyev looks up.

“I was the last person here.” Juno’s expression shifts to one of confusion.

“But I thought you hadn’t been here until the mask case.”

“ _Rex Glass_ hadn’t been to Mars before then,” Nureyev corrects. “I, on the other hand, had on several occasions, during one of which I acquired this hideout.” Juno frowns as he looks around.

“Doesn’t exactly look up to your usual standards.”

“Yes, well, sometimes a nice hotel, or even a less than nice one, aren’t exactly options.” He gestures to Juno, one eyebrow raised. “Case and point.” Juno’s frown deepens as he turns away, looking around the space. It really is just a shack. One room, four walls, a small window, a floor and a roof, with a small outhouse outside he saw when they came in. Everything’s sealed tightly enough that they shouldn’t have to worry about wildlife or sandstorms, but the walls are thin enough for him to hear the wind outside, and feel a chill creeping into the air. There’s one medium-sized table with a lamp sitting on it, the only source of light, a couple chairs, a little counter area with some cupboards below it and a hot plate on top of it, which is hooked up to a solar battery on the floor. According to Nureyev, the cupboards are stashed with water bottles, non-perishable food, some blankets, and some other basic supplies. Enough to last them a few days, at least. Though hopefully they won’t have to stay out here that long. Being trapped in a space this small with Nureyev for several days is the last thing Juno needs. Off to one side is a space heater, just big enough to heat the room. It’s hooked up to the same solar battery as the hot plate, which is in turn hooked up to some solar panels on the roof. And, of course, there’s the bed. One bed. And not a particularly big one, either. Almost more of a cot, really. It’s going to be a long night. Juno is contemplating sleeping on the floor when the sound of Nureyev pulling things out of one of the cupboards interrupts his thoughts.

“Food?” he asks, holding a package towards Juno.

“It sure is.” Nureyev gives him a look.

“Do you want something to eat or not?” Juno sighs and walks over.

“I probably should, yeah. What do we have?”

“A lot of protein bars, some dried fruit, some canned vegetables, some powdered soup mix-” Juno grimaces.

“I’ve been off soup for a while. Just hand me one of those protein bars.” Nureyev gives him a weird look, but hands him one of the bars.

“Suit yourself.” Juno unwraps the bar and sits down while Nureyev pulls out a small pot and pours some water into it, turning the dial on the hot plate. He puts the water on to boil, and digs through the cupboards for a bowl, eventually settling for a mug instead. It’s weird, Juno thinks, watching him bustle around like that, doing something so mundane. So… _domestic._ Unsettling, even? It might not be the most accurate word for what he’s feeling, but he refuses to acknowledge it as anything else.

Once he finishes making the soup, Nureyev cleans off the other chair and sits at the table, where they eat in uncomfortable silence, interrupted only by Juno getting up to get another protein bar. With the initial shock at seeing each other again and the explanation of what Juno got himself in the middle of out of the way, there really isn’t much for them to talk about. Or rather there is, but neither of them is particularly keen on discussing it. There’s too much else to focus on, Juno insists to himself. Bigger things. More important things than his inability to get over the man sharing this room with him, and his regret and anger and other swirling emotions he refuses to name. So, he sits looking over some files he brought with him, and Nureyev rinses out the mug and pot before pulling out the blankets, and cleaning and setting up the bed.

“Find anything useful yet?” he eventually asks, growing bored of the silence.

“Nope,” Juno replies. He may not like the silence much either, but it’s sure as hell better than the place he knows any conversation between them will lead eventually. After another minute of silence, Nureyev sighs.

“Are you cold? I think I’m going to turn on the heater.”

“Go ahead.” He goes and turns the dial, only to pause before turning it off, and then on again.

“Oh dear.”

“What?” Nureyev moves to the side and turns the dial again, allowing Juno to see that the on light isn’t so much as blinking.

“The heater isn’t working.”

“You sure it’s plugged in right?”

“It should be,” Nureyev replies, going over to the battery and leaning down to inspect it. “Wait, why isn’t this…” He flips the switch off and on again, and adjusts some dials before freezing, his expression one of someone who just had a very unfortunate realization. Juno doesn’t like that look.

“What is it?”

“Well…”

“Nureyev…”

“Do you remember how I said I haven’t been out here in several years?”

“Yeeees?”

“And how there’s a fairly thick layer of dust both inside and outside?” After a moment, it clicked.

“No.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“But wait, it can’t be because you didn’t clean the panels before we got here. The hot plate worked.”

“Well, it would have taken some time for them to become too dusty. It… would appear it had just enough power to run the hot plate for a while before it ran out.” Juno sits silently for a moment, trying to fight down the anger and panic.

“Nureyev,” he begins slowly, “are you telling me that we now have no heat in here, because you used the last of our power making soup?”

“In my defense, I had no idea-”

“Clearly! Do you know how damn cold it gets out here at night?!” So much for staying calm.

“Well obviously I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered having the heater out here.”

“I’m not sure you do, because if you did, you would be more worried about the likely possibility of us dying of hypothermia!” Nureyev rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going to die of hypothermia, Juno.”

“Really? Because there’s not exactly enough daylight left to charge that battery enough to last us through the night,” Juno argues, gesturing to the blue light of sunset visible outside the window.

“Perhaps not, but being inside means we won’t have to deal with wind chill, we do have blankets, and if things get dire, well…”

“Well?” Nureyev sighs.

“Sharing body heat is always an option.” Juno stares blankly, his thoughts going from racing to a complete halt fast enough to give him mental whiplash. Peter sighs again. “Look, it’s not my preferred option either, but it’s not like we won’t be sharing the bed anyway.” Juno shakes off his initial surprise, feeling it replaced by the absolute certainty that _that_ particular option can _not_ come to pass.

“Will we? Because I was planning on taking the floor.” Nureyev raises an eyebrow in a look Juno finds infuriating.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Juno.”

“Says who?” Nureyev rolls his eyes.

“I would hope your better judgement, but clearly that isn’t the case. Honestly, Juno, much as neither of us want to, I think we can handle it for one night. Especially if sleeping on the floor and hypothermia are the other options.” Internally, Juno is panicking. He just hopes that it’s not showing _externally._ Because he’s not sure he can handle it, even for just one night. _Especially_ for just one night, honestly. He’s literally dreamed about being that close to Nureyev again, but he can’t. He can’t. Because he knows if he does, all his better judgement and resolve will fly right out that tiny window, and that won’t be good for either of them.

“Yeah, well, hope what you want,” he says, gathering his wits. “But I’ll take my chances with a couple blankets and the comfy embrace of the wall.” He walks over and grabs two of the four blankets off the bed, wrapping himself up in them before settling onto the floor, leaning against the wall, and opening up the file again. Nureyev huffs.

“Obstinate as a child. Fine. I won’t try to make you do anything. God knows it would be a fruitless effort anyways.” Juno ignores him, instead focusing more intently on the file. Peter pulls out a book and starts reading, and they stay silently like that for another couple hours. Juno tries to lose himself in the information, but it’s proving difficult. His mind keeps wandering back to the thief on the other side of the room. He might not be as reluctant to share a bed as Juno is, but he seems just about as happy about the idea. Juno wouldn’t admit it, but it stings a little, even if it is his own fault. Why did Nureyev even agree to help him, anyway? Sure, he might not have known who it was when he came to Mars, but once they realized what was going on, why didn’t he leave? Even if he wanted to help, he could’ve given Juno the forged documents and information he needed and left. He didn’t have to stick around. Maybe he was just worried about Juno screwing something up, so he wanted to keep an eye on him. That seems more likely to Juno than a lot of the alternatives.

By the time Nureyev says he’s turning off the lamp and lays down, Juno’s starting to feel cold, but he refuses to say anything about it. After all, his only other option is, well… it’s not like he doesn’t _want_ to get on that bed with Nureyev, he finally admits to himself. The thought of being wrapped in his arms again is… But that’s the problem, isn’t it? “Again.” And last time, well… after what he’d done to him, and what he’d done since, he probably deserves to freeze to death. Peter probably just wants to keep him from it because he wants to stop Ramses too, and Juno has inside information. Yeah, that’s it.

Lost in thought as he is, Juno barely even notices when he starts shivering. It isn’t until his breath starts shuddering from it that he really notices. Apparently, he isn’t the only one.

“Juno? Are you alright?”

“F-fine.”

“You don’t s-sound fine.”

“Yeah, w-well, neither d-do y-you.” Juno hears a sigh, and the creak of the bed frame as Nureyev gets up. He crouches down in front of Juno, puts a hand on his shoulder, and sighs again.

“Juno, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’ll be f-fine.” In the dim light from the window, Juno can see Nureyev’s bright eyes boring into his.

“You will not, Juno. We’re both f-freezing, and you know it. Just… c-come to bed. Please. Neither of us can do any good if we f-freeze to death.”

“I-”

“And if you don’t,” Nureyev interrupts, “Then I’ll just lay down with you on the floor.” Juno closes his mouth, and spends a moment considering his options. Eventually, he sighs.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” They make their way back to the bed, and lay the blankets over the both of them. Peter suggests they remove their jackets and lay them on top of the blankets, and Juno reluctantly agrees. It’s just their jackets, after all. They still have plenty of other clothes on. Initially, they lay back to back, but it soon becomes apparent that that’s not going to provide enough heat transfer. Some uncomfortable shifting later, Juno ends up with his front pressed against Nureyev’s back, his arms around his waist, their legs tangled together. He refuses to call it spooning, even in his own head. That implies too much emotional investment. It’s just… the most efficient way to share heat, is all. And it _is_ finally getting warmer. They’ve both stopped shivering, for which Juno is _very_ grateful. He isn’t sure he could handle having Nureyev shaking while pressed against him like this. The air on his face feels much colder now, too, and after a moment’s hesitation, he presses his face into Nureyev’s back. He takes a deep breath, and _god_ that _cologne._ It’s just as intoxicating as the first time he smelled it; spiced and sharp and slightly musky, foreign and familiar all at once. Unconsciously, he holds Nureyev a little tighter, and he feels a hand start to settle over his own, before quickly moving away, like he’d gone to hold his hand, and then remembered where they were, and why, and why that was a bad idea. Why this whole thing was a bad idea.

 _No it’s not,_ Juno reminds himself. _It’s just a way to share heat. That’s it. Nothing else._ He knows it’s a lie, but at least it’s a comforting one. At least it keeps him from giving into his impulse to breath in that cologne, and kiss the nape of that neck, and let the apology inside him come spilling out, and beg Peter for another chance, please, just one more chance, because he never wanted to hurt him. He never meant to. Never thought he would actually care enough for it to be worth more than a couple days’ sadness before moving on to the next grand adventure.

Peter’s breathing is slow and even, but in a measured way, rather than the gentle rise and fall of sleep. Juno can’t help but wonder if his heart is beating as hard as his own traitorous one. With as close as they’re pressed together, Juno can’t help but notice how tense Peter is, every muscle taut, as if ready to run away, or bracing for a blow. Juno can’t help but feel a little sick at the thought of that being because of him.  
_I’m so sorry,_ he thinks. _I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._ Suddenly, Peter tenses even more against him.

“What?” he murmurs. Oh. Shit. Maybe he thought it a little more… verbally than intended.

“I… I’m… sorry.”

“For what?” Peter asks, his tone guarded.

“For…” Juno sighs. “Everything, really. For dragging you into this, even though I didn’t mean to. For… for leaving. For…” he huffs a bitter laugh. “For being the goddamn mess that I am, really.”

“Juno…” The hand moves back to rest on top of his, but gently, so he could easily pull away if he wanted. He doesn’t want to.

“I just… I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to hear it.” Peter is silent for a moment that feels like it stretches on forever, before he finally replies.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet, but it rings in Juno’s ears. “You’re right that it doesn’t fix it. Any of it. But…” slowly, he twines their fingers together. “I do appreciate it. I… I’m not sure I can quite forgive you. Not yet anyways. But it is good to hear.” It’s… better than Juno was expecting, if he’s being honest. Peter would be well within his rights to hate him. Should hate him, really. And while it’s not forgiveness, it is a little bit of a relief.

They fall into silence again. Neither knows how long it lasts, both too lost in their own thoughts to even try to keep accurate track of the time. Juno’s just barely starting to drift off when Peter speaks again.

“I missed you, you know.” It’s so quiet, it takes a second for Juno to even be sure he heard it.

“I…” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I missed you too.” Peter shifts in his arms, turning to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Did you?” Juno nods.

“I did. I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, honestly.” It’s hard to admit, but it’s worth it, because Peter rolls to face him fully, their faces dangerously, breathtakingly close.

“I thought about you as well,” Peter says, and the small shiver that goes through Juno has nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with the feeling of Peter’s breath washing over him. “More that I wanted to, if I’m being honest. It was rather distracting.”

“Sorry,” Juno murmurs, his eyes darting down to the faint outline of Peter’s lips that he can see in the darkness. When he looks back, Peter is staring at him in a way that makes his breath catch. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs again. He doesn’t know who closes the distance, only that there’s suddenly a pair of silken lips pressed against his, and it’s so familiar and so relieving that he’s worried he might cry from it. His hand moves to tangle in Peter’s hair and Peter’s moves to his hip and it somehow feels both like it lasts forever, and not nearly long enough.

“Juno,” Peter says once they break away, his voice quiet, but serious. “I…” his hand is light and hesitant on Juno’s hip. “This can be it,” he finally finishes.

“…What?”

“If you want. I… I don’t know what you want, Juno. I know what I want, but I’m also not the one who left. I don’t know what you want from me. From this. If you just want my help, you have it. If you want something more, we… we can talk about it. And if you want, we can pretend this didn’t happen, and we can both try to move on with our lives. But before we do anything else, I need to know where we stand. What do you want, Juno?”

Maybe it’s how tired he is. Maybe it’s the disbelief at being offered a second chance. Maybe he’s not actually as warm as he feels and he’s delirious from the cold. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed by everything going on. But the next words out of Juno’s mouth aren’t the ones he thinks he should say. They’re not an agreement to forget this whole thing, and try to proceed with a strictly professional relationship. They’re not an explanation that Peter’s better off without Juno “Walking Disaster” Steel in his life. Instead, it’s two sentences, short and sincere.

“You, Peter. I want you.”

For as much as Juno worries he’ll regret saying it, both for his sake and Peter’s, he has to admit that the kiss that follows is worth it, as is the one after it, and the one after that, and all the ones that follow until they both fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, keeping each other warm amidst the unforgiving cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos sustain me. Also, if there's a prompt you'd like me to do, let me know on tumblr at BriWhoSaysNi.
> 
> Edit: A HUGE thank you to everyone for your lovely comments. Literally every one of them made me grin like an idiot, and the only reason I'm not responding to individual ones anymore is I feel like I'm artificially inflating my comment count. But I do see them and they make me just ridiculously happy. <3


End file.
